


Life Goes On, Strangely.

by EnBCreap



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Basically, Everything turned out fine, F/F, I crave approval, My First AO3 Post, Some angst, Some humour, because I said so, hello, if you want to, please comment, tagging is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:40:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25168612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnBCreap/pseuds/EnBCreap
Summary: After the arrests of Mark Jefferson and Nathan Prescott, Max Caulfield wants nothing more than to put all the unpleasantness of the past few days behind her. With headaches, a disaster looming ahead and new problems to solve, that won't be easy.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Life Goes On, Strangely.

**Author's Note:**

> This occurs after the events of Life is Strange, in a timeline where Max and Chloe figured out Mark Jefferson's involvement before (because after playing through the game once, it seems obvious in retrospect) and were able to see him arrested without themselves coming to harm. There are a few other differences too, but I'll let you figure them out as you read. 
> 
> Rating Mature for language and some sexual content. It may not warrant that rating, but it's my first time posting and I'm not totally sure what I can get away with.
> 
> This work is written in British English. Spellings of certain words might be inconsistent with the US setting of the game/this story.

Max’s phone buzzed, and she turned her head to find it lying next to her on the bed, six inches from her face, where she’d dropped it three hours ago. She sprawled out flat on her back, on top of her covers and still in the same jeans and t-shirt she’d put on this morning, or maybe it was last week, or maybe it was never now; some hypothetical past event lost in the incomprehensible mists of non-time. How much was still real – really real, not just to her but to everyone? Of everything that had happened, what had still happened? God, what did that even mean? She had to stop thinking about it. That kind of thing could break her brain, if it didn’t destroy the entire universe first. That couldn’t happen. She wouldn’t allow it. Everyone had suffered enough, some more than enough – Max included – but everything was about as right as could be now. No more screwing around with time.  
“No more screwing around with time,” she said, speaking her thoughts as if to drive the point home.  
The message on her phone was from Warren. She felt a stab of regret that she hadn’t told him the whole story, leaving him to find out the same as everyone else in whatever fucked-up timeline she’d created. She wondered how he was taking the news.  
“Hey Mad Max, I don’t know how you did it, but I know you had something to do with this,” the message read. “It’s fucking crazy. You’re like a real superhero. We should celebrate. Hammer horror marathon at the drive in, next wednesday. Hopefully we’ll be allowed off campus by then. Much love.”  
Of course. The whole of Blackwell was locked down, armed security guards covering all the entrances and students confined to dorms after dark. When you considered that a teacher and a student had recently been arrested for murder, it didn’t exactly seem like an overreaction. Max was even a little impressed by how quickly the college had enacted the new security measures. Still, it did leave her stuck in her room, with option of trips to the bathroom to break up the monotony, or the showers if she really wanted to live it up. She could use a shower, actually, she thought.  
“Maybe. I think I’ve had enough horror for a while. I’ll keep you posted. Be good to hang out.”  
She read her reply back. Hopefully it wouldn’t sound too much like she was brushing him off, but would make it clear enough that she wanted some time to herself. Celebrating was the last thing she wanted to do. She hit send and finally rose from her bed. Her back was stiff and achy and her throat felt like she’d just chugged a gallon of sand and rusty nails. She reached out for the half-empty bottle of water that sat on her desk and drank deeply. The water was stale and tepid, no doubt the bottle had been there for a couple of days, but right now it was as good as anything. A dribble ran from the corner of her mouth to splash on her t-shirt. Splish splash. Chloe.  
That was what she wanted more than anything. Who she wanted. Chloe, who had disappeared at some point between when they’d rushed to the motel to inform David and when Mark Jefferson had been dragged, handcuffed, through Blackwell’s front gates and bundled into a squad car. Before she’d crashed, Max had been checking her phone maybe twice a minute in case she missed any contact Chloe tried to make. She’d called her four or five times, only to go straight to voicemail every time. Eventually she’d had to admit defeat. Wherever Chloe had gone, Max could only hope that she was safe and not doing anything stupid, like trying to bust Nathan Prescott or Mark Jefferson out of police custody to enact her own kind of justice. If Max wasn’t around to save her…  
She shook her head. She couldn’t think about that, not now. It wasn’t going to happen. More likely Chloe was just off somewhere nice and secluded, getting very high after a wild few days. Max supposed they both deserved a bit of relaxation, and it wasn’t the right time to judge Chloe’s preferred coping mechanism. She just wished that her best friend would have let her know before she’d absconded, or at least picked up her damn phone.  
The digital clock by her bed told her it was forty-three minutes past eleven. If she hadn’t acted, the Vortex Club party would be approaching full swing by now, and God knew what might have happened. No doubt that fucker Jefferson would be stalking his next victim. He might even have taken her. But he hadn’t. Thanks to Max, he wouldn’t be taking anyone else. He’d probably spend the rest of his life behind bars for what he’d done to Kate, what he’d done to all those other girls, even what he’d tried to do to Nathan, who’d no doubt be going down with him. For Rachel. Thinking about it all, Max almost felt like she could smile. It was like something out of a movie – not one of those weird ones that Warren kept trying to push on her, something normal. They’d beaten the bad guys. At the very least, she’d earned a hot shower.  
She took a clean t-shirt and sweatpants from the closet and stepped out from her room into the hall. From downstairs, she heard pulsing music and her dormmates’ drunken laughter rising up through the floor. There was a party in the lounge and everyone was welcome. Juliet had stopped by Max’s room earlier to invite her, but she couldn’t party right now. It was all she could not to totally break down in her room on her own, there was no way she could hold it together and act normal if she was surrounded by people, who had no idea what she’d really done and could never be told. She’d seen Chloe die. Actually, she’d seen her die a few times recently. And every time, she’d saved her, no matter what it took or what it did to her, or what it might still be doing to her. The nosebleeds were only messy and inconvenient, but the headache that had hit after that last trip to put everything right, to bring Chloe back, had been something else. It had felt like her brain was going to explode, like her eyes were going to pop right out of her skull, and she knew it had something to do with her little adventures in time. She only hoped that it was strictly a one-off. Maybe if she kept firmly to the present from now on, it wouldn’t come back.  
The showers were deserted, which was just as well. The hot water felt better than it ever had before, like she wasn’t just washing off the sweat and dirt of the day but cleansing her body of all the fucked-up things she’d seen this week. If only she could cleanse her mind as easily, she thought as water beaded on her skin like steaming rain.  
Rain. Oh God, the storm. Was that still going to happen? She’d seen it, it had seemed so real, and then there had been the snow and that freaky eclipse. It all had something to do with her and her power. What if it was her punishment for changing so much? As if all the things she’d been through already weren’t enough, what if she was forced to watch a tornado take out the whole town while she was powerless to stop it? The thought of it made her hands shake and her heart pound. She longed for the days when her shower thoughts had consisted of nothing but happy little daydreams about fame and success and Chloe.  
As she was getting dressed, still trying to keep her anxiety in check with deep, slow breaths, she heard a commotion outside. The door clattered open and Max covered herself reflexively with her hands, despite already being dressed. The sound of drunken laughter and hushed voices heralded the arrival of the newcomers. Brooke rushed in, dragging somebody behind her by the wrist. Max was surprised, or maybe completely unsurprised to see that somebody was Warren. Clearly, they’d decided together to leave the party and continue their celebrations a bit more privately. Why they’d chosen the girls’ showers, she didn’t know. Risk of being caught, maybe? Some people were into that. She coughed loudly to get their attention before they could progress much further than a little light touching. Two pairs of unfocused eyes turned to her.  
“Hey, Max,” said Brooke, her voice clearly showing the influence of alcohol.  
Warren didn’t speak, but pulled away from Brooke quickly and stared at the tile floor, his face quickly turning a bright shade of crimson. The way his body bent awkwardly at the waist made Max wonder what he was trying to hide. She could have laughed, but something told her not to make this even more uncomfortable for everyone involved.   
“Just don’t make a mess,” she said as she left the room. As the door closed, she could have swore she saw them move back together and pick up where they’d left off. Good for them, she thought. At least someone was having a good time tonight.  
As she walked down the hall and back to her room, she wondered how much this whole experience had changed things, for everyone at Blackwell. It had certainly changed her, and Chloe, maybe even more than anyone else. Everything they’d seen together, what had happened to Rachel…  
What if Chloe had decided to disappear? Losing your best friend and finding out what had happened like that…it had made Max sick to her stomach, and she hadn’t even known Rachel. She couldn’t even imagine how much it hurt Chloe to see all that. Maybe she had finally decided there was nothing left for her in Arcadia Bay. She could have jumped in her truck and headed for the hills. Portland, maybe, she was always talking about taking a road trip there, or Seattle, or even LA. She’d always been spontaneous, even as a child, and the new punk rock Chloe was completely unpredictable. If she felt she had nothing left to lose, there was no telling what she might do. The thought of it, of never seeing her again, made Max’s heart hurt. She wanted to scream, or cry, or maybe lock herself in her room for about a thousand years; more than anything, she just wanted to know where her best friend was.  
She locked the door of her room behind her and sat down on the bed. Her phone buzzed. One new message: Chloe, the screen read. Hope swelled up inside her chest, warm and glowing, replacing all those horrible grey feelings that had filled her just a second ago. Chloe was safe and thinking of her, and even if she really was running away, it wouldn’t be so bad, just as long as Max knew. With quivering fingers, she unlocked her phone and opened Chloe’s message.  
Look out your window.  
That hadn’t exactly been what she’d hoped for, or even expected. Frowning, she peered out into the night and saw nothing. Buzz. Another text.  
In the tree, dumbass.  
She dutifully turned her attention to the tall oak tree that sat outside, its closest branches just inches away from her window. There, in the pale glow of the light from her room, she could just make out a shadowy figure crouched close to the trunk. The glare from a cell phone screen lit up a face, pale white in the darkness and grinning impishly. Chloe. Buzz.  
Open the window!! Like now!!  
Max felt the smile come automatically to her face, so wide it made her cheeks hurt. Of course Chloe had slipped past security and snuck onto campus before climbing twenty feet up in the air and waiting outside in a tree for however long on a cold fall night just to come see her. She would never have guessed it, but somehow it now made perfect sense. Eagerly, she slid the sash window up and cleared space on her desk so Chloe’s boots wouldn’t trample her computer on the way in.  
“Whoever’s running security now, they’re even doing a worse job than step-dick,” Chloe groaned in a hushed voice. “Sneaking in here might be the easiest thing I’ve done all week.”  
“You’re crazy,” she said admiringly as the other girl clambered through the window and came to rest sitting on her desk.  
“I know,” said Chloe. She wore all black; tight black jeans and a hoodie, with her beanie pulled down low over her mop of electric blue hair. Very ninja-like, if you ignored the overstuffed backpack and the bloodshot stoned eyes.  
Whatever Max was about to say was lost as Chloe dropped her backpack to the floor with a muffled thud and pulled her into a vicelike hug. Max turned her head to the side to avoid shoving her face directly into her friend’s chest and enjoyed the feeling of being close to her. The thick fabric of Chloe’s hoodie was a little chilly against her cheek; she smelled like weed and coffee and the outdoors and her arms felt strong and safe. She was safe, they were both finally safe and well, and they were together, which was even better.  
And then Max was crying as her body melted against her friend’s and everything she’d been feeling, all the fear and heartbreak and pain came right back, strong as ever, as though it was trying to burst out of her body. Her lips parted, a loud sob escaping. Chloe held her tighter and whispered gentle shushing noises.  
“It’s okay,” she said. “Max, it’s okay. You’re good.”  
Max whimpered and buried her face in Chloe's hoodie, not trusting herself to talk without upsetting her yet. The storm could still be coming, they could all be in danger with no way to prevent it, but how could she tell Chloe that now? She’d looked so happy and content when she’d come through the window, more so than Max had seen her since they were kids, and she could tell that it was real. No way was she going to stomp all over her friend’s joy right now.  
“Just…just a bit emotional, I guess,” she mumbled at last, looking up and meeting Chloe’s gaze.  
“Well, I guess that’s understandable,” said Chloe, squeezing her shoulders before releasing her and settling on the chair with her long legs crossed and her elbow on the desk.  
Max took a seat on her bed, or more accurately collapsed, the bed breaking her fall.  
“What are you doing here?” she blurted out before she could find a better way to word her question.  
“Checking on you,” said Chloe simply. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Plus, I should probably apologise for bailing earlier. I know that was kinda shitty of me.”  
“Where did you go?”   
“To smoke,” she shrugged, as though that was the end of the matter.  
“You’ve been sat in your truck getting high for the past…” Max checked the time. Eleven minutes past midnight. “…six hours?”  
“Nah, I also went home to shower and take a nap. It’s just…” she sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “All of this shit, you know. It’s been wild. I just needed a break. To process it all, I guess.”  
“Mm,” Max drew her legs up onto the bed and hugged her knees. Of course Chloe had needed some time alone; she felt stupid and guilty for ever worrying about her now that she was here. Thinking she’d go after Mark and Nathan, or just leave without even saying goodbye, what the hell had that been about? With Chloe grinning three feet away from her, it felt like a betrayal, and one that she couldn’t even confess to her. The tears returned to her eyes and she buried her face against her legs so that Chloe wouldn’t see.  
The feeling of the bed sinking slightly under new weight told her that Chloe had come to sit beside her. An arm was placed around her shoulders and she heard the soft scuffing sounds of Chloe wiggling her feet out of her boots.  
“Come here,” she whispered, turning her body around and bringing her legs up to wrap around Max’s waist so that she was encircled completely. Max sobbed harder, her whole body shaking as more pent-up emotion bubbled to the surface. Her throat hurt and her eyes burned, but she remembered reading somewhere that crying like this was actually good for you. Letting everything out was better than keeping it in, and she had a lot to let out. It was all over now, she didn’t have to hold back anymore and she didn’t try to, but buried her face in Chloe’s chest again and just let her tears flow.  
Slowly but surely, it subsided. The shaking stopped and when she looked up at Chloe, she saw the smile on her face – not her usual sardonic smirk, just a gentle, natural expression of care and affection.  
“Th-thanks…” she said, her voice a little hoarse.  
“Don’t mention it,” said Chloe, pressing her lips to Max’s forehead in a way that made her face light up and her body buzz with a soft, sweet warmth. “You’re not gonna cry all night, are you?” the blue-haired girl teased as her fingers stroked Max’s hair.  
“Wasn’t planning on it,” she mumbled, leaning into her friend’s touch. That drew a little chuckle from Chloe. She loosened her hold on Max a little.  
“Speaking of plans, superhero, how about we crash that party downstairs? I’m sure everybody’s too drunk to even notice I’m not supposed to be here.”  
Max groaned and shook her head. She was impressed, bordering on amazed, at how wired and upbeat her best friend was, but not even Chloe could convince her to party right now, not unless she wanted to risk breaking down again in front of the whole dorm.  
“I thought you might say that,” said Chloe, swinging her legs back down to the floor. She reached out and dragged her backpack closer to the bed. That familiar note of mischief had returned to her voice. “So, we’re going to have our own little party, just for us, right here.”  
She unzipped the backpack and turned it upside-down, the contents spilling on the bed. For a split second, Max thought warily about what kind of party supplies Chloe might have brought. Beer, weed, something harder? Were those her things now? Instead, she was surprised to see the pile of brightly coloured wrappers that Chloe shook out of her bag. There were several cans of soda, of various brands and flavours; there were chips and cookies, candy bars and sweets. All the stuff they’d had at Chloe’s house as kids, back when all they’d had to worry about was keeping quite after her parents went to bed. Either Chloe had got a seriously nostalgic case of the munchies, or she was trying to remind Max of those carefree days, a lifetime ago. It was working, too.  
“Wow,” Max said softly, regarding the small mountain of snacks that now occupied her bed. “You got all the key junk food groups.”  
“Damn right,” Chloe said with a laugh as she cleared some space to sit. “It’s movie night. Seems like about time we did that again.”  
Movie night. So she really was going for those happy memories.  
“Past time,” Max agreed.  
They barely spoke for the next couple of hours, which Max found suited her. She’d already promised herself that she wouldn’t press Chloe about anything, about how she was really feeling, or about Rachel. If she suddenly burst into tears the way Max had, she didn’t know if she’d be able to comfort her, and she didn’t want to find out right now. As she sipped from a can of grape soda, she wondered how much of this – the snacks, the movies, the nostalgia – was really for her benefit. She was relaxing, feeling better than she had for a long time, but as Chloe’s vividly blue head rested on her shoulder, she thought that maybe Chloe, too, was trying to recapture the innocence of their childhood, just for a while, before the next gut punch of reality hit. Maybe Max was taking her mind off it, just as Chloe was doing for her.  
“Hey?” she whispered as a thought wandered into her head.  
“Mm?” Chloe groaned, looking up at her with tired eyes.  
She leaned down to kiss her friend’s cheek, and missed; Chloe turned her head at just the right moment. Their lips met. Realising her mistake, Max pulled away, and in the dim light of the computer screen she thought she saw a light pink flush creep up Chloe’s pale cheeks.  
“Well, that was unexpected,” she said. Her lips curled into a playful grin and Max felt her face growing hot. Should she explain herself, tell her that she’d only been aiming for a peck on the cheek? Then what? Would Chloe laugh it off, or would she take that to mean that Max never wanted to kiss her lips again, that once – on a dare – had been enough for a lifetime? Maybe she should just own it, act like Chloe’s mouth had been her target all along. But how would she take that?  
All those thoughts quickly left her head when Chloe sat up and pulled her in for a second kiss. This time, she didn’t try to move away, and nor did Chloe, wrapping her arms around her neck and moving even closer to straddle her lap so that Max had nowhere to go. Feelings rose up in her, so powerful that she didn’t even know the right words to describe them, and she knew that she was going to start crying all over again if she didn’t get herself under control, but that wasn’t so easy with Chloe on top of her, her hands playing in Max’s hair, their lips locked together in what was easily the most passionate kiss of Max’s life. If she’d been standing, it would have made her knees weak and left her clutching at her friend just to stay on her feet. Her breathing hitched as Chloe’s chest pressed against hers; her back arched, her body reacting to Chloe like she just couldn’t get enough of her touch, like however close they got, she would always find herself wanting more. When they finally came apart, her eyes were wet, her cheeks bright red and her mouth open as she gasped for air. Chloe still sat in her lap, looking down at her. She was unable to hold back a nervous giggle as those beautiful blue eyes burned into hers.   
“You’re cute when you blush,” Chloe teased.   
“That was…” she searched momentarily for the right word, and came up short.  
“Tingly?” said Chloe with a grin. “Intense?”  
“Both of those,” Max admitted, her blush growing deeper still. She fought the urge to burrow into Chloe’s chest yet again and kept her burning face held up where she could see her.  
“Mind-blowing?”  
“I wouldn’t go that far,” she reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind Chloe’s ear.  
“Guess I’ll have to try harder next time,” she responded, sliding off her lap and settling back down next to her, cuddling up once more with her head tucked under Max’s arm, her own arms loosely wrapping around Max’s waist.  
“Next time,” Max whispered, more to herself than anything. Chloe wanted more kisses, and if the way her body had moved against Max’s just now was any indication, a time would come when she wouldn’t be content to leave it at that. God…thinking about that really did make her feel tingly. No doubt it would be intense, and probably mind-blowing as well, if she could just relax and let it happen naturally. She wondered if she could. Her only other sexual experience so far, an awkward drunken fumble with Warren that they’d both sworn never to speak of, had probably not been the best introduction to the wide world of sex.  
The movie – she couldn’t even remember what they’d been watching – wound down, and the display on her phone told her it was now almost three in the morning. Silently, a little reluctantly, she removed herself from Chloe’s embrace to turn off the monitor and clear some of the empty candy wrappers off the bed so there would be space for both of them to sleep comfortably. They were way past the point where it would be acceptable to banish Chloe to the couch. Not that she wanted to; the idea of falling asleep in each other’s arms, like they’d done that night after their little trip to pool, seemed like heaven. As if on cue, Chloe sat up and shrugged off her hoodie before wriggling out of her skinny jeans. Underneath, Max saw she was wearing colourful patterned boxers and an old band t-shirt with the sleeves cut off to show off her tattoos. She joined her under the blankets, still in her sweatpants, and snuggled up close. Chloe’s hair tickled her nose as she nuzzled into the space between her neck and shoulder.  
“I’ve been thinking,” Chloe whispered. “About the storm you saw.”  
And there was that feeling of dread again; that horrible, creeping sense of doom that took hold without warning and wouldn’t let up until something distracted her. She screwed up her eyes and swallowed hard.  
“What about it?” she said, slowly and carefully to keep her voice from shaking.  
“I don’t think it’s real,” Chloe mused. “I don’t think it ever was. It’s a metaphor.”  
“A metaphor?”  
“Yeah, you know, like a physical representation of an abstract concept,” she said matter-of-factly.  
“Thank you, Professor Dictionary,” Max nudged Chloe’s leg with her foot. “I know what a metaphor is. For what?”  
“Come on, don’t you see it?” said Chloe, frustration in her voice. “Things are changing ’round here in a big way. Christ, Arcadia Bay’s favourite son’s in jail right now, the evil little fuck. Just about every dirty little fucking secret this town has, you’ve blown it wide open. Things aren’t gonna be the same for a long time, Max. You really shook this place up.”  
This close, she could still just about make out the individual features of Chloe’s face, even in the darkness. Her mouth was a thin straight line and her eyes, usually sparkling with mischief or dark with anger, were dead serious.  
“You are the storm,” she said, and kissed Max’s forehead.  
Slowly, not feeling quite as reassured as she would have liked, Max closed her eyes and did her best to sleep.


End file.
